So, this wasn't an optimal situation. But he had been put in worse before, and for some reason- maybe because of the dead network- Zim still hadn't wisened up to the body cam sticking out of his pocket. If he could make it out of this situation alive and with that camera, it was game over for the Irken scum. That was the problem, though. They seemed to be pretty thoroughly stuck. He watched as Zim scrabbled at the floor panels with his PAK, fury trembling in his skinny, weird arms.
"So… you're just gonna dig us out?"
"I'm digging me out, filth-stink! You are going to stay here and rot for your insolence!"
The alien got a panel pried open and gave a bark of horrified surprise. Dib perked up to see over his shoulder, his own eyebrows raised. Yep. Whatever energy-field-thingy was keeping them in here, it kept going. Digging out wasn't going to work.
"Don't you have like, a failsafe or something?"
"Silence!"
The alien rounded on him and he found himself backing against the other side of the tank, raising his hands placatingly. … not that aliens probably had that context, but whatever.
"It is your deception and scheming that has gotten us in this mess! How did you even get Zim the Smaller, she was all the way upstairs!"
"I asked Gir."
The robot made a pleased noise from where he sat playing with the baby. She, in kind, was gnawing on his arm like a feral raccoon. Zim gave a frustrated yell and kicked at the bent panel he'd been fussing with.
"UNBELIEVABLE!"
"So did you actually find her on the porch, or?"
"Yes. My systems logged an unregistered TOOF scrapper in the galaxy and by the time I had come home from my EVIL supply run, there was an illegal freak in a box in the doorway. WHY are you not more concerned about our current situation?"
"I told you, my family will notice I'm gone. Eventually." Dib shrugged and slid back to sitting. Besides, he wanted to get as much footage as he could- this was golden. "What makes her an illegal freak?"
"... You're joking."
"Er, no? I wanna know."
"She does not have a PAK, you blind weasel!"
"... so?"
Zim scoffed, scowling at him over the lip of the hole he'd crawled halfway into.
"So she is likely the result of illegal genetic experimentation, or worse."
"Worse?"
"Affection." The creature spit the word like it was sour, his shoulders bunching up close to his own neck. "Either way, she is a pathetic imitation of the great Irken people, and she isn't fooling me."
"You seemed pretty concerned for her safety back there."
"SHUTUP! I was not concerned. … I just want to finish the job myself."
"Mhm." He picked at the sleeve of his coat. The longer he kept Zim talking, he figured, the less of a chance he had of being gutted. "Wait, so if you guys don't come from labs or affection, then where did you come from?"
"There's such a thing as legal, regulated engineering rot-breath." Zim huffed, and Dib caught the way he side-eyed the smaller Irken. "A proper Irken is ready for duty as soon as they're decanted. This tiny beast is just pathetic."
"So… you're really just gonna kill her?"
A long stretch of silence yawned out between them, and it became apparent Zim was pretending he hadn't heard him. Gentle sparks flew from the pit he'd dug but it wasn't exactly pleasant to watch, being significantly brighter than the rest of his surroundings. It seemed like the infant was lulling to sleep where the robot held it.
"Hey, uh. I'm assuming you didn't bring any of that diaper stuff down here with you?"
"Eh? Why would I- AAUGH! OH, IT'S HORRIBLE!"
Time. Was starting to not feel real. His head was fuzzy, the red lights of the basement were conjuring a strange pressure behind his eyes, and he was stuck in here with a killer alien, a loud robot, and recently, a louder baby. Alien. Baby alien. He had run out of memory space and probably battery on his camera a long time ago, and his gut had spent so long twisting painfully that its growling was actually starting to feel like he'd eaten something.
Zim had stopped moving down underneath them and he could only assume he was either dead or asleep. Dib sidled up against the side of the tank and tried to will himself back into unconsciousness, but it just felt achey and raw.
"Zim?"
A long groan drew out from the panel-hole.
"Zim you can kill me if you want."
"Quiet, Urth-slime, my think meats hurt."
"Not my fault, that one's on B."
"... Bee?"
"The baby. 'Zim the Smaller' is just stupid, so you're Zim A now, and she's Zim B. Plus Bees are cute."
"Are you diseased? Bees are malicious."
"Only if you mess with them."
That earned a tired growl from the pit. Something primed and a shot cracked off of the tank's glass, blindingly bright and cacophonous.
"-Geez, Zim!"
"Weaponry doesn't work." The alien droned out, "Hardwiring doesn't work. Digging doesn't work. I am going to rot here with the scum of the universe."
"You? I was minding my business! You're the one who invaded my planet!"
"It is an honor to be invaded by the mighty Irken armada!" Zim's furious snarl finally poked out of the pit.
"Is that why you cut contact with them, Zim?"
That shut him up fast. The alien's expression snapped from defensive to offended and then melted into brief snaps of panic and confusion. He ducked back into his hiding hole for cover. When he didn't even muster a counter-argument, Dib considered it a victory. It would feel better if he had anything to eat; the hordes of chips outside were mocking him. Hadn't his father realized his absence yet? Was it another long night at work?
Focus, focus. Even if someone did come, he would need to pull a few fast moves to get out of here in one piece. And making a game plan might help distract him.
"I hate you."
"I hate you."
"I hate your dumb house."
"I hate your stupid, big head!"
"I like yelling too!"
"Shut up Gir!" "Shut up Gir!"
The robot snickered and the noise bounced off the walls, maddening and cold. He was going to die here. He couldn't stop thinking about how dry his throat was; it made his tongue sticky and sick-feeling. He couldn't remember for sure, but that probably wasn't a good sign.
Everything was red and dark, even though his eyes were open. Why? Thinking was like trying to run through water waist-deep. Man, water sounded great. He didn't want to get up to get it though, he was tired. His eyelids were heavy but he couldn't get himself to stop staring at the ceiling. There were lots of tangling cords and… half deflated balloons? Had there been a party? Maybe Dad had forgotten to pick him up again.
"Dib."
He could technically see the ceiling above him, if he focused on it for a minute. Had the noise been another cruel figment of his imagination? If he laid very still, maybe it would happen again.
"Dib!"
All at once, the rosey film covering his vision flickered and disappeared. The air grew cold and much crisper, and for a few moments the shock had him frozen where he lay. What?
"Get up, idiot!"
Something tugged on his arm with surprising force and he blinked a few times, struggling with the blurriness. Gaz stood over him, though her figure was little more than smears of color.
"Gaz? -Gaz!" He sat up so fast his head swam.
"Put your glasses on, moron. You're in huge trouble."
"Oh Gaz, am I glad to see you!"
He crushed his little sister in a hug and earned an irritated growl in return. She snatched the glasses from his hair and shoved them into his chest, pushing him away with the motion.
"Shut up, you reek. And I don't want to deal with the idiot brigade so get up."
Idiot brigade? A quick scan of the area revealed Zim curled up in a torn-out section of the floor, cradling Bee. Both were asleep and both looked like they'd been crying, and it brought a little sneer to Dib's face. Some mighty, specialized soldier that was. Gir was there too, but he kinda just waved with a distant stare when Dib motioned for him to keep quiet. Gaz yanked at him and he didn't fight it, though running was a bit of a challenge with how tingly and light-headed he felt.
"You didn't bring any water, did you?"
His sister scoffed, pushing to get him into one of the many elevators strewn around the nest. "As if. Say one more word and I'll leave you here."
He didn't test it, knees wobbling underneath him as the elevator shot them to the surface. They ended up underneath the kitchen sink, and it took a bit of crouching and crawling to actually get out of the cramped space. From there it was essentially a straight shot to the door. He ran, but Gaz didn't seem to share his urgency, tugging on a rain coat she'd left at the door.
Rain, by the way, was easily a new contender in his top list of cool stuff. He'd never cared for it before, but after being stuck in that cramped, stale hell for who-knew-how-long, it was bliss. He actually laid down on the cold, soggy sidewalk and let it soak into his clothes. He could breathe again!
"Get up, you're being weird!"
Gaz kicked him and all he could do about it was laugh. "This is amazing! But how did you know I was here?"
"You don't have any friends, Dib. Plus I already checked that stupid port-o-potty down the road you keep saying is haunted."
"Sal is real, okay, we're just working out how to get him to show up on video!"
"Save it. Dad is making spaghetti."
Instantly, nothing else mattered. Dib scrambled to his feet and sped-walked after her, stealing only a brief glance back at the cavernous shell of a house. And as he did, the sleek figure of the body camera suddenly felt of great importance. He… he had done it. He had done it! He'd gotten real footage, and he was getting away with it! Luck was about to change for Dib and tonight, it was gonna taste like pasta and meatballs.
As could be expected, Dad had a lot of questions about where he'd been and why he hadn't been answering calls or texts. Less than expected, though, was how Gaz butted in to back him up. She explained that she'd found Dib at Zim's, and that they'd been stupid enough to get stuck in the dumbwaiter during their hangout. It didn't leave a lot of wiggle room for him to do any correcting about Zim's sinister, alien home and all its traps, but it did seem to appease their dad. So, for once, Dib let it go. Food felt more important right now anyway.
Once dinner was through he hurriedly refused the offer to join family video game hour, scrambling up the stairs to check the footage on his camera. And it was all. Still. There. He had their argument upstairs, the chase, Gir setting up the weird pigeon party, everything. He'd even snagged a couple of their conversations in the holding tank. There were great shots of Zim, and the baby, more than enough of the robot and even some really good ones of the lair, despite the poor lighting. It was perfect. He could hardly contain himself as he created backups and pulled open the network to start distributing it. Or, he tried to.
He was met with that horrible, mocking, pixelated dinosaur. Grounded. He was still grounded from the internet. He would have to wait two and a half weeks to get the message out. Unless he somehow found some blank tapes dumpster diving behind the Swanky Mart, that was two and a half weeks he had to defend this evidence with his life.